Chapter 227: The Secrets of Gelel
The heavy oak doors to Haido's office creaked open as Malik entered, his steps measured yet casual. Haido stood by the grand window, his silhouette framed by the glow of the afternoon sun, hands clasped behind his back. On the desk before him lay the two pieces of the ancient tablet, their etched symbols emanating a faint, otherworldly light. Malik's gaze briefly shifted to the artifacts before settling on Haido, whose serene demeanor masked an undercurrent of anticipation.
"Malik," Haido greeted without turning, his voice calm yet commanding. "Join me. Today, we glimpse the foundation of the world's future."
Malik approached, his expression curious but tinged with skepticism. "A future you'll rule, of course."
Haido chuckled softly, finally turning to face him. "Every great vision requires a shepherd. The masses cannot guide themselves—they need a leader to unify them."
"And you think you're that leader," Malik replied, the edges of his lips curling into a faint smile.
"I know I am." Haido's tone was resolute, his gaze unwavering.
"Then Piecing the Tablet Together is going to be a big step for you," Malik said, joining him at the table.
The two men leaned over the desk, carefully fitting the fragments of the tablet together. The ancient carvings aligned seamlessly, forming a complete story in a language almost no one could decipher. Haido began to read aloud, his voice reverent:
"'From the vein of the earth's spirit, Gelel, came the power to reshape destiny. It was a gift meant for balance, bestowed upon those chosen by the stars. Yet greed turned this blessing into a curse, and blood was spilled to seal its might away.'"
Malik's fingers traced a section of the tablet. "The vein's power is immense—enough to destroy half a continent. It's no wonder wars were fought over it. But this… 'balance'… was that ever the intention?"
Haido's eyes glimmered with conviction. "Balance is a myth created by the weak to justify their failures. Power exists to be claimed and wielded. The vein's energy will forge a world where suffering is a relic of the past."
"And if someone stands in the way of that dream?" Malik asked, his tone measured.
Haido smiled, a calculated expression that spoke of quiet ruthlessness. "They will be swept aside."
Haido leaned forward, his light green eye glinting behind the monocle he always wore. His fingers traced the edge of the tablet, a rare softness in his expression. "This," he said, his voice rich with reverence, "is the key to shaping the world."
Malik read aloud, his tone light but precise, "The vein of Gelel is life and death intertwined. From the hands of its royal guardians, power was wrought with the cost of blood—flesh given willingly to bind the energy within."
Haido nodded, his fingers steepled under his chin. "The sacrifice of the flesh… a small price for the salvation of the world."
Malik tilted his head slightly, his voice tinged with skepticism. "Or its domination. Depends on the perspective, doesn't it?"
Haido's gaze darkened momentarily but softened again as he leaned back. "Peace is an illusion without order. The Gelel stones are the answer—endless regeneration, a halt to aging, and the power to create unity under one vision. Tell me, Malik, do you not see the beauty in such a utopia?"
Malik hummed thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair. "I see the ambition. But beauty? That depends on who's painting the picture."
As Haido and Malik delved deeper into the tablet's secrets, the three knights stood to the side, their postures varying between attention and thinly veiled boredom. Kamira toyed with her hair, her red eyes wandering the room, while Ranke's fingers tapped a steady rhythm against her thigh. Fugai remained still, her violet gaze focused but distant, as though lost in thought.
Haido's sudden laugh broke their trance. "Ah, my dear knights," he said, his tone warm yet teasing, "I see your patience wavers. Are my musings truly so dull?", his warm laughter breaking the tension. "Ah, my knights, how unkind of me to bore you with these discussions of destiny."
The three straightened immediately, their voices overlapping in apologies.
"Not at all, Lord Haido," Kamira said, her voice dripping with charm.
"Just… deep in thought," Ranke added, her usual sarcasm absent.
"We'll do better," Fugai assured, her tone steady and sincere.
Haido waved them off, his expression kind. "There's no need for such formality. You've all served me faithfully, and I am grateful. Ranke, your recent mission was exemplary." His eyes lingered on her, filled with the charisma of a benevolent leader.
Ranke inclined her head, a rare flicker of pride crossing her features. "Thank you, Lord Haido."
"You may all go," Haido continued. "Fugai, prepare yourself. You'll accompany Malik to the third temple in the Land of Stone."
Fugai's expression remained unreadable, her nod curt. Malik watched her carefully, sensing a calm exterior but detecting no strong emotions beneath. She's either very disciplined or very closed off, he thought.
Once the knights had left, the room grew quieter, save for the faint hum of the Gelel energy surrounding the tablet. Malik leaned back against the edge of the desk, his posture relaxed yet thoughtful.
"You really believe the Gelel can bring peace?" Malik asked, his voice softer now.
Haido stepped closer, his hands resting lightly on the desk as he stared down at the tablet. "The Gelel is more than power. It is the essence of life itself—limitless, unyielding. With it, wars would cease. Hunger, sickness, despair—all eradicated."
Malik's brow furrowed. "And what of the cost? The wars it has already caused? The lives ruined in its wake?"
"A necessary sacrifice," Haido said without hesitation. "Those who cannot see the vision must not hinder it."
Malik's lips twitched into a faint smile, though his eyes held a hint of sadness. "You sound like every other ruler who thought they could change the world by force."
Haido's gaze sharpened. "And yet here you are, aiding me."
"For now," Malik replied, his voice light but edged with meaning.
the room fell into a heavy silence. Malik leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk. "You seem to trust them implicitly. Even after all these years, they're still… yours."
Haido's gaze grew distant, his voice quiet but firm. "They believe in the dream I've shown them. For that, they are mine. But loyalty is not granted freely—it is earned, cultivated. You understand that, don't you?"
Malik smiled faintly, his tone measured. "I understand that loyalty can be fragile. People follow dreams until those dreams start to crack."
Haido studied him intently, as though trying to peer into the depths of Malik's soul. "And what of you, Malik? What dream do you follow?"
Malik met his gaze unflinchingly. "The dream of a better world. Maybe we just have different definitions of 'better.'"
Haido leaned back, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "Perhaps. But the Gelel stones have the power to bridge that gap. Peace requires strength, Malik. And strength demands sacrifice."
Their conversation turned back to the power of the Gelel itself. Haido spoke of its regenerative properties, how it halted aging and healed wounds that should have been fatal. He described the monstrous forms granted to those who wielded its energy, the transformation of body and soul into something both magnificent and terrible.
Malik listened intently, absorbing every detail. His mind raced with possibilities, both for and against Haido's vision. The Gelel was a tool, a weapon, a miracle—and a curse.
Haido leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "Imagine, Malik: a world where death is but a memory. Where strength is absolute, and suffering is a distant dream."
Malik met his gaze, his own eyes alight with a mixture of curiosity and caution. "Or a world where power corrupts absolutely."
As the conversation waned, Haido returned his attention to the tablet, tracing its symbols with reverence. Malik watched him for a moment longer before standing.
"Thank you for your time," Malik said. "I'll prepare for the journey to the third temple."
Haido nodded, his focus never wavering from the tablet. "Go, and ensure Fugai understands the importance of this mission."
As Malik's thoughts churned. Haido was a man of vision, but his vision was steeped in arrogance and control. The Gelel's power was both a gift and a danger, and Malik knew the road ahead would demand careful steps—and hard choices.
Malik pressed Haido on the dangers of such immense power, questioning the wisdom of placing so much trust in an energy source born of blood and conflict.
Haido, in turn, waxed poetic about the transformative potential of Gelel. "With this power, we could create a world free of suffering. Imagine it, Malik—no death, no decay, no war. Just harmony."
"And no choice," Malik countered, his voice soft but firm. "Harmony isn't peace if it's forced."
Haido's expression darkened. "You think I seek to force the world into submission? No. I seek to guide it. The weak, the lost—they need someone to lead them."
Malik's smile was faint, almost sad. "Maybe. But the best leaders know when to let go."
The conversation ended as the two men reached an unspoken understanding—they were allies, for now, but their philosophies were fundamentally at odds. Haido rose from his chair, his imposing figure silhouetted against the glowing Gelel stones.
"Rest, Malik. Tomorrow, the real work begins."
Malik stood as well, his movements deliberate. "Of course. Thank you for the enlightening discussion, Haido."
As Malik left the office, he couldn't shake the weight of the tablet's message—or the growing realization that Haido's vision for the world would inevitably clash with his own. For now, he played the part of the loyal ally, but the storm brewing within him was far from quiet.
The hallways of Haido's fortress were eerily quiet as Malik made his way to Kamira's quarters. His steps were deliberate, his thoughts focused on the mission at hand—not the mission Haido had given him, but the one Malik had taken upon himself. He needed to free the knights from Haido's control. Kamira was the most accessible of the three, and if he could sway her, it would set a precedent for the others.
Malik paused outside her door, inhaling deeply before stepping inside. Kamira was there, lounging on a chaise near the open window. The moonlight bathed her pale skin, casting a silvery glow over her long blonde hair. Her mischievous red eyes met his, and a slow smile spread across her lips.
"Well, well," Kamira purred, her tone teasing. "To what do I owe the pleasure, handsome?"
Malik didn't respond immediately. Instead, he allowed himself to examine the invisible threads of emotion between them.
Kamira Analysis
Name: Kamira Valenci
Love for Malik: 61/100 (Her feelings for Malik are complicated. She wouldn't call it love, but the word comes to mind when she looks at him. She enjoys his company, trusts him in her own way, and finds his presence oddly comforting. The more time she spends with him, the stronger her feelings grow.)
Lust for Malik: 85/100 (Their physical relationship has deepened her attraction to him. Kamira appreciates his confidence and charm, and their shared moments have only heightened her desire for him. (Her attraction to Malik is undeniable. Their physical connection has deepened over time, and she finds herself drawn to him in ways she hasn't felt for anyone else.)
Haido Analysis:
Love for Haido: 30/100 (Kamira has genuine respect and loyalty to Haido but not out of affection. Her devotion stems from gratitude and the belief that his vision gives her life purpose.)
Lust for Haido: 10/100 (There's no true romantic or sexual attraction to Haido. Her loyalty to him is purely functional, born out of what he represents rather than who he is.)
Kamira tilted her head as Malik approached, her expression shifting from playful to curious. "You're awfully quiet tonight. Something on your mind?"
Malik sat beside her on the chaise, his gaze steady. "You, actually."
Her smile widened, and she leaned closer, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "Flattery will get you everywhere, darling."
"I'm serious, Kamira," he said softly. "I was thinking about how much you mean to me."
Her playful demeanor faltered for a moment, replaced by something softer, more genuine. "You've been spending too much time with Ranke," her voice dancing with a tease yet tinged with an undertone of something deeper. "She's making you sentimental."
"Tell me something," Malik said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "What's your last name? I'd love to know it."
Kamira's eyes narrowed slightly, not in suspicion but in thought. "Valenci," she said after a pause. "It's not something I use often. Why?"
"Because I want to know everything about you," he said simply. "Every little detail."
Kamira let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "You're dangerous, Malik. Saying things like that could get a girl to start thinking things she shouldn't."
"Like what?" he asked, his tone teasing.
"Like maybe you're worth more than I thought," she replied, her voice quieter now.
Malik floated slightly off the ground, rising until they were eye level. He cupped her face gently, his thumbs brushing against her cheeks. "Kamira, if I told you how I really feel about Haido, would you promise not to throw me out the window?"
Her eyes darkened slightly, the mischievous glint returning. "That depends on what you have to say."
"I don't trust him," he said quietly. "I think his vision for the world is dangerous. And I'm afraid of what will happen if he gets everything he wants."
Kamira's smile faded, replaced by a serious expression. "Malik…"
Kamira stared at him, her red eyes searching his for answers. "My whole life," she began, her voice soft, "has been about serving Haido. He gave me purpose when I had nothing. I don't know if I could walk away from that."
He studied her for a moment before speaking. "I know you're loyal to him. Your whole life has been about serving his vision. But if it came down to it—if you had to choose—would you side with him, or with me?"
Kamira's breath hitched, and she looked away, her expression unreadable. "That's not a fair question, Malik."
"I need to know," he pressed gently. "Because I care about you, Kamira. More than you realize."
Malik nodded, understanding. "But could you consider it? Just for a moment?"
There was a long silence before Kamira answered, her voice barely above a whisper. "For you, Malik… maybe."
She met his gaze again, her red eyes searching his for answers she didn't know how to find. "Haido gave me purpose when I had nothing," she said finally. "He gave me strength, a reason to fight. But you…" Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head. "You make me feel things I don't understand. And I hate that."
Malik leaned closer, his forehead resting against hers. "If you hate it so much, why haven't you pushed me away?"
"Because I can't," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Not yet."
He smiled softly, his lips brushing against hers. "That's all I needed to hear."
Kamira closed the distance between them, her lips capturing his in a kiss that was both fierce and tender. It was a moment of vulnerability, a crack in the armor she had worn for so long. Malik held her close, his hands tangling in her hair as he deepened the kiss.
When they finally pulled apart, her cheeks were flushed, her expression a mixture of confusion and longing. "You're going to get me killed, you know that?" she murmured.
"I won't let that happen," Malik said firmly. "You have my word."
For the moment in this time, they shiared, Kamira didn't argue. Instead, she rested her head against his chest, letting the silence speak for them both, "I'll do my best to come and see you later, but if I can't make it, try not to dream about me."
Malik wandered the fortress halls with purpose. His interactions with Kamira had gone well, but Ranke was a completely different challenge. Her fiery personality and biting sarcasm kept people at a distance, but Malik sensed something beneath her sharp exterior—something worth reaching.
He found her in one of the training rooms, pacing like a caged lioness, her armor still gleaming from their earlier mission. The faint crackle of Gelel energy followed her movements, a testament to her irritation.
"Ranke, you're bouncing off the walls! Too weary to take a seat?" Malik's voice was gentle, yet it carried a solid undertone.
She spun on her heel, her light-violet eyes narrowing. "What do you want now, shortstack? Here to annoy me some more?"
Malik smirked, unbothered by her prickly demeanor. "Not at all. I figured you could use a break. You've been working hard."
Her brow arched skeptically. "And you care because…?"
"Because I'm nice like that," Malik said with a grin. He gestured to her armor. "Why don't you take that off for a bit? Let me give you a back massage. You deserve to relax."
Ranke crossed her arms, clearly unconvinced. "A massage? Really? What's the catch?"
"No catch," Malik replied, his smile unwavering. "You can even keep your bodysuit on. I just thought you might appreciate it."
For a moment, Ranke considered his offer, her gaze scrutinizing him as if trying to find an ulterior motive. Finally, she sighed, muttering something about how persistent he was, and began unfastening her armor. Piece by piece, the shimmering purple plating came off, revealing her sleek black bodysuit underneath. Malik waited patiently. Her sleek black bodysuit clung to her athletic frame, emphasizing the power and grace she carried in every movement. She lay down on her stomach, her large breast pressing against the ground as she adjusted herself.
"Alright, fine," she said, sitting down with her back to him. "But if you try anything funny, you're getting zapped."
"Relaxation and Frustration are like two peas in a pod," declared Malik, while Ranke faced away, his hands briefly radiating a gentle pink and gold shimmer, They're like the mischievous duo in the backseat of your brain's minivan, taking turns at the wheel of your emotions.
Malik straddled a safe distance near her lower back and began kneading her shoulders, his fingers firm but gentle. Ranke let out a small sigh, surprising herself. "Not bad," she muttered.
Malik's hands worked expertly over Ranke's shoulders and upper back, kneading away the tension she didn't realize she was carrying. Despite herself, she let out a soft sigh, her posture relaxing slightly.
"This isn't terrible," she admitted begrudgingly.
"I'll take that as high praise," Malik said with a chuckle. "So, how are you feeling after today?"
Ranke snorted. "Annoyed. Mostly with you."
"Me?" Malik feigned innocence. "What did I do?"
Her head tilted back slightly so she could glare at him. "You know exactly what. That kiss you've been hanging over my head. Just get it over with already."
Malik smirked, his hands pausing on her shoulders. "If you insist," he said, his voice low and teasing. "Lay back."
Ranke complied, turning and stretching out on the bench. The motion caused her large breasts to jiggle slightly, a detail that did not escape Malik's notice. He leaned over her, his face mere inches from hers. the tight black material of her bodysuit doing little to hide her curves. Her eyes stayed locked on Malik as he leaned over her, his face drawing closer.
The moment their lips met, a jolt of energy coursed through Ranke's body, radiating from her Gelel stone and spreading outward in waves of warmth and pleasure. Her mind went blank, and for once, she was completely unguarded. Malik deepened the kiss, his hand brushing against her cheek as he pulled her closer.
The kiss was deep and electric, sending a wave of heat coursing through Ranke's body. She felt a shock of pleasure that left her breathless, her heart pounding in her chest. When Malik finally pulled away, she stared at him, her face flushed and her brain scrambling to process what had just happened.
"Happy now?" Malik asked, his tone playful but his gaze warm.
Ranke's response was immediate. Her hand crackled with energy as she tried to shock him, but Malik caught her wrist mid-strike, holding it firmly. The defiance in her eyes was met with equal determination in his. Their eyes locked, and something shifted between them. Neither spoke as Malik leaned down again, capturing her lips in another kiss. This time, Ranke didn't fight it. Her free hand found its way to his chest, pulling him closer as they lost themselves in the moment. This one was even more intense, their breaths mingling as they lost themselves in the moment. Ranke's free hand found its way to his chest, gripping his shirt as if anchoring herself.
When they finally broke apart, Ranke was left staring at him, her usual sharp wit failing her. "You're infuriating," she muttered, though there was no malice in her voice.
"And you're stunning," Malik replied, releasing her wrist but not moving away. "Now, are you going to keep trying to zap me, or can we call a truce?"
Ranke huffed, turning her head away to hide the small smile tugging at her lips. "Fine. Truce. But don't think for a second that I'm letting you off easy."
Malik laughed softly, sitting back but keeping his gaze on her. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Malik rested his forehead against hers, his smile soft and genuine. "You're amazing, Ranke," he said quietly. "And I'm not just saying that to mess with you."
Ranke's cheeks were still flushed, but her smirk was back. "You'd better not be. I don't fall for cheap tricks."
"Good thing I'm not cheap," Malik quipped.
As Ranke sat up, adjusting her bodysuit, Malik took a moment to observe her. The tension in her shoulders had eased, and there was a softness to her expression that he hadn't seen before.
"You know," he said, his tone more serious, "you're not as tough as you make yourself out to be."
Ranke shot him a glare. "Careful, Malik. I will shock you and I won't hold back, even if you are a good kisser."
"I'm just saying," Malik continued, unperturbed. "You deserve more than this. More than Haido's empty promises."
Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, Malik thought he might have pushed too far. But then she sighed, her gaze dropping to the floor. "You don't understand," she said quietly. "Haido gave me a purpose when I had none. Without him, I'd be nothing."
"I'm hearing a lot of that today, but That's not true," Malik said, his voice gentle but firm. He reached out, taking her hand in his. "You're so much more than that. And one day, I hope you'll see it."
Ranke didn't pull away. Instead, she looked at him, her light-violet eyes filled with something that almost resembled hope. "Maybe," she said softly. "But not today."
Malik smiled, squeezing her hand. "That's okay. We've got time."
This time it is Ranke who starts the kiss, Ranke's kiss lingers on Malik's lips as her arms tighten around his neck, pulling him even closer. The scent of lavender and electricity mixed in her hair intoxicates him, momentarily making him forget the world outside this intimate embrace.
Ranke breaks the kiss, her gaze fixed intently on Malik, her violet eyes filled with both intensity and curiosity. "What makes you think you have a chance with me?" she murmurs, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of her lips.
Malik smirks back, the thrill of her challenge electrifying his very soul. "Perhaps I'm just more resilient than your other suitors," he replies, his voice smooth and steady. He lets his fingers trace along her neck, causing a shiver to run down her spine.
"Or maybe you just don't know when to back down." Ranke laughs, a sound full of both amusement and defiance. "Still, you've got guts, Malik. Few dare to challenge me directly like you would." Her grip tightens around his neck for a moment, pulling him into a deeper kiss.
Malik responds with fervor, his tongue dancing with hers in an intimate duel. Each movement is charged with energy, as if the electrical currents coursing through their bodies are amplifying their connection. The kiss is intense and consuming, a whirlwind of passion and dominance.
After a moment, Ranke breaks the kiss, pulling back just enough to search his eyes. "Let's see how good you really are," she murmurs, her voice dripping with challenge. She pushes him away gently yet firmly, her eyes still glowing with the same electricity that had enveloped them moments before. Malik stumbles back slightly, his breath heavy from the intensity of the kiss. The room seems to pulse with the residual energy of their shared passion. He steadies himself, a smirk playing on his lips as he meets Ranke's gaze.
"Challenge accepted," he replies, his voice thick with determination. He watches as Ranke's eyes narrow, her competitive spirit igniting. The air crackles with tension, both of them fully aware of the stakes.
Ranke's grin stretches even wider, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous twinkle. "Show me what you've got," she taunts, her tone thick with provocation.
She glides with the elegance of a stream, her form a swift shadow as she bridges the gap in a single pulse. Ranke catches Malik, his face between her large breasts that are confined in her bodysuit, The softness of her skin contrasts with the hardness of her muscular frame. She encircles him with her arms, her hold both strong and tender, drawing him near. Her heartbeat quickens, matching the rhythm of his own, and the intoxicating scent of lavender fills his senses.
Malik takes a deep breath, inhaling the aroma that surrounds him. His hands move up to Ranke's back, feeling the taut muscles beneath her suit. He presses himself against her, feeling her warmth radiating through the fabric. Her grip tightens, pulling him even closer, as if she's trying to absorb him into her very being.
Ranke's breath is hot against his neck, sending shivers down his spine. "I've heard a lot about you, Malik, Kamira won't stop talking about you," she whispers, her voice filled with curiosity and challenge.
"But actions speak louder than words." Malik takes both of her large breasts in his hands, "Then how about this, go and wait for me in your room, I would love to make sweet passion with you for the first time but this empty gym isn't the place for it, Ranke, I'll come and see you later tonight, I still have things to do." Ranke's eyes narrow as she contemplates Malik's words. Her competitive nature clashes with her curiosity and desire. Finally, she nods, her grip on him loosening. "Fine," she whispers, her tone laced with both defiance and assurance. "But don't be late." Ranke dons her armor with a swiftness that earns Malik's admiration.
With that, Ranke releases Malik and turns on her heel, striding out of the gym with a confident gait. Malik watches her go, admiring the way her figure moves, every muscle in her body flexing with power and grace. As she disappears from sight, he lets out a long, slow breath, feeling both exhilaration and relief.
Malik turns his attention back to the room, the electric energy still crackling in the air. His mind races with the events that have transpired.
Malik marveled to himself, "That woman managed to suit up in full armor without letting go of me. She's quite remarkable. What on earth could she be plotting for me next?"
Malik wandered through the fortress, his thoughts focused on Fugai. Out of Haido's three knights, she was the one he knew the least. She had always kept her distance, her sharp demeanor making it clear that she didn't indulge in casual camaraderie. Even so, Malik couldn't ignore the fact that she was as vital a piece of Haido's puzzle as Kamira and Ranke.
It wasn't long before he found her in one of the fortress's sparring chambers. The room was dimly lit, the sound of clashing metal ringing out as Fugai struck at a training dummy with relentless precision. Her movements were sharp and calculated, the kind of control that came from years of experience. Her long, light brown hair was tied back loosely, and her armor gleamed under the faint light, emphasizing her striking figure.
Malik leaned against the doorframe, watching her for a moment. He was careful not to interrupt—Fugai didn't seem like the type to appreciate uninvited commentary on her technique.
"You know," he finally said, his voice cutting through the rhythm of her strikes, "if that dummy had feelings, I'd feel sorry for it."
Fugai froze mid-swing, her violet eyes snapping toward him. For a moment, there was only silence, and then she relaxed slightly, lowering her fist. "What do you want, Malik?" she asked, her tone curt but not unkind.
He grinned, stepping further into the room. "I figured it was about time we had a proper conversation. You know, get to know each other a little better."
Her lips twitched, though whether it was the start of a smile or a sneer, Malik couldn't tell. "Is that so? And why would you want to do that?"
"Why not?" he replied, shrugging. "You're Haido's first knight, which means you're probably the most interesting person here."
Fugai arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Flattery isn't going to get you anywhere."
"Not flattery," Malik corrected, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Just an observation. Besides, you've barely said two words to me since I got here. Thought I'd break the ice."
She studied him for a moment, her gaze unreadable. Then she turned back to the dummy, giving it a final, decisive strike that sent it toppling over. "Fine. Talk," she said, leaning the now almost broken dummy against the wall. "But make it quick. I don't have time for idle chatter."
Malik pulled up a nearby stool, his relaxed posture a deliberate contrast to Fugai's stiff demeanor. "Alright," he began, "how about something simple? What's your favorite thing I've cooked?"
Fugai blinked, clearly not expecting the question. "Your lamb stew," she admitted after a moment, her tone guarded. "It's… tolerable."
Malik chuckled. "Tolerable, huh? High praise coming from you. [The wolf liked the Lamd, why am I not surprised],"
Fugai rolled her eyes but didn't retort. Instead, she crossed her arms, her expression softening ever so slightly. "You stand out from the rest," she whispered, her tone softening. "Most people here tiptoe around me. You don't."
"Seriously?! Ranke and Kamira, they don't seem like the types... anyhow, it's because I'm not one to get spooked easily," Malik retorted, his smile stretching further. "Moreover, I suspect there's more beneath your 'formidable first knight' facade."
Her eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of curiosity behind her guarded expression. "Is that so? And what exactly do you think you know about me?"
"Not much yet," Malik admitted, "but I'd like to find out. For starters, why are you so loyal to Haido? What makes you stay?"
Fugai's gaze turned sharp again, her posture stiffening. "I don't owe you an explanation."
"I'm not asking for one," Malik said quickly, raising his hands. "Just curious. You're clearly strong and capable. I figure you must have your reasons."
She didn't respond immediately, her gaze drifting to the floor. When she finally spoke, her voice was low, almost bitter. "Haido gave me a purpose when I had none. That's all there is to it."
['It seems Haido has a type"]Malik thought to himself, Malik leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You're quite the marvel, aren't you? With that glorious mane of yours," he remarked offhandedly. "It's not just brawn—there's an astuteness about you, as if you're perpetually leaping ahead by two strides, wolf-like even, if I may say."
Fugai's eyes snapped back to him, narrowing. "Is this your idea of flirting?"
"Maybe," Malik admitted, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Is it working?"
She huffed, though there was a faint pink hue to her cheeks. "Ranke was right, You're insufferable."
"And yet, here we are still conversing," Malik observed with a smirk, "However, it does bring joy to my heart that I'm the topic of your trio's conversation so frequently, it sends my tiny heart aflutter."
Fugai gave a slight shake of her head, her lips betraying a hesitant grin. "Consider yourself fortunate that your culinary skills have won me over," she uttered, a gentle rumble accompanying her words.
"I'll take what I can get," Malik said, standing and offering her a slight bow. "Thanks for humoring me, Fugai. I'll let you get back to your training."
As he turned to leave, Fugai called out after him, her voice firm but not unkind. "Malik."
He paused, glancing back. "Yeah?"
Her expression softened, just for a moment. "Don't make me regret trusting you."
Malik's smile faded into something more sincere. "I won't," he promised before slipping out of the room.